Back from Hell
by Kage Mirai
Summary: When Dean came back from Hell he was supposed to stop the apocalypse but he didn't come back quite the way the angels wanted him to. He was still more than happy to end things but it would be done his way and Sam would be kept safe. Alastair/Dean, Demon Dean
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own anything held within and I do not make anything from the writing of this piece of fanfiction.

I have this story completely finished and will be posting it in chunks since it is 33 pages long and over 22,000 words. Each -Break- constitutes a change in time, the focus being on Dean's time in hell. I hope you enjoy this and please let me know what you think.

It was dark and hot, the air was stagnant and smelled of decay. He could hardly breath as his fingers scrambled in the dirt, clawing his way up, chasing the fresh air he knew was just out of reach. He broke the surface, gasping for air. Dirt was caked under his fingernails, covered his clothes and skin. He gasped for breath, sucking in as much air as he could. His fingers grasped at the soft earth, he could feel a laugh bubbling up in his throat, he was alive. He slowly got to his feet, his head tipped back, his gaze settling on the night sky.

"Sammy." His voice came out as a rough whisper, raw from disuse, "Really Sammy? You couldn't bury me somewhere nice?" He gazed down at the hole he had crawled out of, shoving dirt back into it with his foot.

The forest he had been left in was leveled, a simple wooden cross marked his grave, just two pieces of wood nailed together. His brother had left him in the middle of a newly made field, in the middle of nowhere. The grass was illuminated by moonlight and in the distance he could see it reflecting off the roof of a building. It didn't take long for him to walk to the abandoned gas station and it seemed that luck was further on his side. There was a pay phone, a working pay phone. He could feel another laugh bubbling up in his throat, he could call Sam, they would be together. Sammy was going to shit himself when he picked up the phone. The phone rang, loud and clear, he drummed his fingers on the wall, waiting for his brother's voice to fill his ears.

"Hello?" The sound of his voice was like a balm on his soul.

It took him a moment to answer, "Sammy? It's so good to hear you." He swallowed hard, waiting for a reply.

"Dean?" He said his name like a whispered prayer, "Oh, God, Dean! Where are you?"

"Where do you think I am man? You left me in the middle of a God damn field!" He glared at the phone as if Sammy could see him through the receiver.

Sam took in a deep breath, "I-I'll be there soon, just stay there."

He grumbled softly at the dial tone, "Like I have much of a choice, bitch."

He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against the telephone box, waiting for the telltale roar of his Impala, his baby. He had slumped to the ground sometime in the last hour, had lost track of time and yet he knew it had been hours before he heard it, felt the rumble in the road. As the sun was rising he saw it glint off the shiny black skin of his baby. She rolled to a stop, her growl dying as Sam jumped out of the car and ran to him. He stopped short, a silver flask in hand.

"Well, come on, let's get it over with." He stood with a groan.

"Cristo." Sam flicked his wrist, holy water splashed against Dean's face, making him blink.

There was no sizzle, no flash of black eyes, "See, no demon here."

Sam was on him in an instant, arms wrapping around him tightly, clinging to him, "God Dean, you're alive. I missed you, you have no idea how much I missed you. Don't ever do that again, don't you leave me."

He gasped for breath, pounding on his back, "Shit Sammy, I can't breathe." He gasped out, wheezing slightly as Sam finally released him, "I'm hungry, let's eat!"

Sam shook his head, "You just crawled out of a grave, we're not going into a diner with you looking like that."

He sighed, rubbing his eyes, "Fine, but I'm driving." He pushed past him, running his hand over the hood of the Impala, "Hey, baby, the Sasquatch been treating you well?" He slid into the driver's seat, fingers sliding over the wheel.

Sam pulled open the passenger door, slipping in and closing it behind him, "There's a motel in town, you'll know it when you see it. You can get cleaned up and then we'll get some food, anything you want."

His fingers slid over the dashboard, taking in his car and ignoring his brother. He was more interested in re-familiarizing himself with his baby. He finally turned the key, letting out a pleased sound as she rumbled to life. The music sucked in his opinion but he remedied that quickly, jamming an AC/DC tape onto the deck, Highway to Hell blared from the speakers. His fingers drummed along with it, head bobbing as he pulled out onto the street, heading toward civilization. The hotel wasn't hard to miss, it was the same as all the others they had stayed in over the years. Sam got them a room and Dean spent the next half hour in the shower, basking in as much heat as he could stand. His skin was scrubbed red from soap and heat. When he stepped out with only a towel slung low on his hips Sam was waiting for him.

"What do you want to eat?" He asked, tossing him a bag.

He grabbed it, pulling out his clothes before stepping back into the bathroom and getting dressed, "Let's go Sammy, I want a big juicy burger." He rubbed his hands together, licking his lips.

Every bite was savored, each taste of greasy cheeseburger was met with a low moan. He followed every third bite with four French fries dipped in ketchup. Sam watched him, shaking his head with an indulgent smile. The burger and fries disappeared quickly followed swiftly by the biggest piece of cherry pie they had. A soft groan escaped his lips, he was half tempted to lick the plate clean but he refrained, watching his brother with half lidded eyes, content and full.

"What do you remember?" Sam finally broke the silence, gazing at him from over his half eaten salad.

Dean closed his eyes for a moment, licking the remaining cherry juice off his lips, "I remember the hellhound and then nothing, darkness and dirt. I had to drag myself up and out." He paused, "I wish there was something more." He shrugged, "How long was I gone?"

"Four months."

"No wonder that was the best burger ever." He gave Sam a smile and a laugh, "Come on Sammy, lighten up, I'm back! We can get started again, do some good."

Sam shook his head, "Relax first then we can find a new hunt. You just got back."

Dean stretched, getting to his feet, "Alright, let's go back to the motel. Tomorrow's a new day!"

Sam was asleep not long after his head hit the pillow. Dean wasn't so fortunate. He contented himself with sitting on the edge of his bed, gaze locked on Sam as his mind drifted.

-Break-

Heat and sulfur surrounded him, seemed to seep into every pore. He coughed slightly, pushing onto his hands and knees. The rocks he had landed on were rusted red, the color of old blood. His face shifted into a scowl, there was no pain. He knew that hellhound had killed him, torn him up to drag him down, and yet there was no pain, no wounds. Slowly he looked around, pushing himself to his feet. He was standing on a raised platform made of bloody stone. A flight of stairs carved into the rock led down into the darkness. He was raised above the dark, the blackness stretched out around him, impenetrable. Slowly he made his way down, not wanting to stay in one place for too long. The smell of sulfur grew stronger the further down he went but he didn't stop. He had to get out of here, find Sammy, and right now the only way to go was down. A scream echoed through the cavern as he took the last step, his body jerked, eyes going wide. He should have expected it, this was hell after all, why wouldn't there be screaming?

"Isn't it a lovely sound?" The voice was soft, low and dark, like chocolate.

He whirled, facing the owner of the voice. The man who stood behind him was dressed all in black, wearing pressed slacks, shiny black shoes, and a black turtleneck. His skin was pale, his features plain, nondescript, with ebony hair and pure white eyes. White eyes, no pupils, no iris, just an empty gaze, it unnerved him.

"Who're you?" He swallowed hard but stood straight, eyes locked on the demon before him. He held himself tall, proud, "What do you want?" He was immediately on the defensive.

"Dean Winchester, I've been waiting a long time for you." He smiled, that smile made a shiver go up Dean's spine. His smile was one of nightmares, of serial killers, and murderers, "My name is Alastair, welcome to hell."

-Break-

Dean had been asleep for a couple hours when there was a knock at the door. He made it out of bed before Sam, his gun in hand. He kept his weapon behind him as he cracked open the door. The woman that stood there was certainly unexpected.

"Ruby." His voice was flat as he stepped aside, "Please, come in."

She scowled at him but stepped inside, "Dean, you're alive."

"Yep, pulled myself out of the ground good as new. What are you doing here?" He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I came to see Sam, I found a job for us. Certainly wasn't expecting you to be here though, how was hell?"

He shrugged, "No idea, don't remember a thing. What's this job?" He asked, sitting down and poking the still sleeping Sam, "Hey Sammy, wakey, wakey! We have a guest."

Sam let out a low groan, eyes cracking open, "Ruby?" He smiled at her, voice rough with sleep.

She smiled in return, "I found us a job." She sat down on the edge of the bed, "It can wait if you want to spend more time with your brother."

"Hey, I'm the one that told him we needed a hunt, he thinks I need recovery time. Honestly Sammy, I'm good. I'm not going to let a little lack of memory get the better of me." He grinned, "So, Ruby, what are we chasing down?"

"There's a group of demons holed up in the next town over. I didn't stick around to ask about the end game but they're killing people, probably some of Lilith's." She shrugged, "Are you game?"

Sam nodded, "Alright, you win. Let's get dressed and we can head out." He grumbled, rubbing his eyes and swinging his legs over the edge, getting to his feet.

Dean was still dressed from the previous night so when Sam grabbed his clothes and went to the bathroom to change he was left with Ruby. She narrowed her eyes at him, her gaze weary.

"You really don't remember anything?" She sounded suspicious.

"I remember the hellhounds then crawling out of my own grave. So yeah, I really don't remember anything." He looked her in the eye as he spoke, his gaze sure and steady, "You been taking care of my brother?"

She nodded, "Just trying to keep him on the straight and narrow."

"Been doing a bang up job of it too I see." He paused, turning away from her to look at the curtained window, "How long did he look for me, try to save me?"

She shifted, looking at his profile, "He never stopped."

Dean could feel a broken laugh bubbling up but never let it pass his throat, "Come on princess! You're taking forever!" He got to his feet, pounding on the bathroom door, "Have to get your hair perfect? It's just going to get messy again when we get on the road." Sam grumbled, finally coming out of the bathroom, "You're such a girl."

The trio set out, Dean behind the wheel with Sam in the passenger seat and Ruby in back. The demon gave directions, leaning forward to rest against the front seat. It was an old warehouse, Dean's thoughts immediately settled on the fact that it always seemed to be an old warehouse, it was like the demons and other baddies were drawn to them. Dean's fingers wrapped around the Colt, the familiar weight a comfort in his hand. He hadn't bothered to ask Sam how he got it back or where he found it, he was just happy to have it in hand.

"How do we want to do this? You said a group, so there's more than one."

"You two go in the front, I'll take the back." Sam's fingers closed around a shotgun. He pulled it free from its place in the trunk, snagging a few salt filled shells to go with it.

"No way are you going alone Sammy. You think you can take them on your own?"

Sam loaded his gun as he spoke, "I've got this. I've been doing fine on my own while you were gone. Trust me." He clapped him on the shoulder, heading away from the car and disappearing around the back of the building.

Dean sighed and shook his head before pushing past Ruby and heading for the main door, "So much for trying to keep him on the straight and narrow." He kicked the metal door, hard, sending it crashing open.

The Colt pointed steadily forward as Dean moved into the warehouse. Ruby followed close behind him, her dagger in hand. Their footfalls echoed through the room, towering shelves lined the walls, scattered through the warehouse creating perfect hiding spots if their marks wanted to utilize them.

A voice echoed through the room from behind the shelves, "How'd you get out?" It reminded Dean of a petulant child, "Alastair finally get tired of you? Let you off your leash?"

Dean snarled softly, whirling to face the owner of that voice, "Hey asshole, why don't you come out and show yourself?" He held the gun steady as a young man, barely sixteen, came out from behind one of the shelving units.

"Hello, Dean." His eyes were black as pitch.

"I don't know who you are but I'm going to kill you." His finger squeezed the trigger, not giving the demon a chance to say another word.

Ruby moved closer, "Alastair?" Hey eyes were narrowed to slits, "Dean, what do you know about Alastair?"

Dean glared at her, "We've gotta find Sammy." He pressed forward, heading toward the back of the building, looking for his brother.

He saw them, two demons and his brother, but he couldn't wrap his mind around what he saw. Sam had one of them firmly pinned to the wall, but not with his hands, with his mind. The other was on the ground, kneeling before his brother. Dean aimed, putting a bullet through the head of the kneeling one. Sam closed his eyes, holding his hand out, exorcising the demon from the one he had pinned, all without uttering a word.

"And when were you going to tell me about this?" Dean growled, moving forward, waving the gun before him, "What the hell, Sammy?"

"I've been practicing." He mumbled softly, his gaze flitting to Ruby before settling on the floor.

Dean shook his head, letting out an exasperated sigh, "Sorry, sorry, I forgot I've been gone for four months." He turned away before whirling back, "But come on, this is huge!" He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at it slightly.

They stood in tense silence, the brothers staring at each other. It was Ruby who broke them out of it, "I'm hungry. Let's go get something to eat." She grabbed the two brothers, hooking her arms in theirs, and pulling them from the warehouse and into the street.

-Break-

"We have all the time in the world." Alastair's fingers closed on his shoulder, "You see, Dean, you're special. It isn't every day I take on a new soul." He leaned in close, his lips pressed to his ear, "You and I are going to have a good time getting to know each other, inside and out." His fingers trailed down his stomach, feeling Dean's muscles tense under his touch, "The moment I saw your contract I knew you would be a challenge."

Dean reacted, jerking away from the demon, "Hey, watch the hands man." He wasn't going to give this guy the pleasure of seeing him squirm, "So, you're the scary bastard that has all the little demons afraid of him? You don't look too scary to me."

He chuckled softly in response, "We haven't gotten started yet, I wanted you to get a feel for eternity. A taste of what's to come."

"And what exactly is coming? I thought hell was all fire and brimstone, blood and torture. All I've experienced so far has been a bunch of rocks and a couple of screams." He paused, "Can't forget being felt up by a demon."

The laugh that escaped Alastair's lips sent a shiver up his spine, "We will do a lot more than just, 'feeling up', as you put it." He turned away from the newly arrived soul, "Come." He started walking.

"Like I'm really going to go with you, no thanks. I'm in hell, contract fulfilled, now I'm getting out of here." He turned the other way, walking away from the demon.

Laughter echoed around him, sinking hooks into his brain, "Oh, Dean, we could have done this the easy way but I can see that you want to make this difficult." Alastair's form seemed to warp and shift, no longer the nondescript face, it was something darker. He moved forward, "We are going to have such fun."

Alastair was darkness, he was everything and nothing, he filled the room and yet was no where. Dean felt him, surrounding him, the smell of sulfur sank into him, into his soul. He screamed as Alastair sank his claws into him, a hook spearing slowly through his shoulder. His fingers scrambled at the hook, his blood pouring around it, making it slick. That laughter surrounded him again, spurred on by his screams as more hooks sank into his flesh, his wrists, his side.

"You're going to be perfect spread out on my rack." Alastair's form solidified into that same nondescript form he held when he first saw him, "When you wake up we will begin." He kissed his cheek, chuckling softly as Dean's world went black.

-Break-

"You let Ruby teach you. You let her mess with your head." He shook his head, "Why Sammy?"

They were back in their motel room sitting across from each other, one on each bed, "I had to. I needed you, needed to find you, and she was there for me. You're my brother, Dean, and I need you."

Dean closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, "I get it, I need some air." He stood, stepping outside.

Ruby was waiting for him, leaning against a support beam, "You're not Dean, are you?" Her eyes were narrowed, taking him in.

"Do I look like a demon? Of course I'm me. Sam tested me when he came to pick me up."

"I don't know what you are but you're acting...off. You are way too accepting of me being around, of teaching Sam." She paused, "Lilith wasn't the one with your contract, was she? That demon in the warehouse, he knew, Alastair."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He crossed his arms over his chest, "Sorry Ruby but hell is one big black spot in my memory and I'm happy about it. You said hell sucked and I'm glad I don't remember it."

"How did you get out?" It didn't seem as though she believed him.

"No idea, but I have a handprint on my shoulder and no idea how it got there."

"How did you know it was me?" She stalked forward when he didn't answer, "Tell me Dean, how did you know it was me?"

He shrugged, "I just knew. I don't know, what does it matter?" His voice was raised, angry.

She moved to stand toe to toe with him, "I don't trust you, you're hiding something and I'm going to find out what."

As she turned to walk away Dean let out a grunt of pain, falling to his knees, his palms pressed to his forehead. He fell forward, pressing his head to the pavement. Ruby took a step toward him, a look of worry spreading across her face.

"Ruby." The voice was low and rich, drawing her attention away from Dean. The man who stood there was tall, had light hair, and was dressed in an impeccable suit, "How long has it been?" He chuckled lowly, moving to stand beside Dean's body, his fingers sliding into his hair, "It seems like you are just full of questions tonight, aren't you?"

She held her ground, "Alastair."

He smirked, pulling Dean's head back by his hair, "You could cause me some problems with all of your questions." The fingers of his free hand traced over Dean's lips, down his throat, "We just can't have that, now can we? You see, Dean here is mine. He doesn't fully understand right now, he's just not himself lately." He mocked, his hand trailing over Dean's shoulder, sliding his shirt down, revealing a swirling black mark. It seemed to shift and slide under his skin, "Do you understand, Ruby?"

She swallowed hard, her gaze locking on the mark, "I-I think I do." She looked up at him, "What did you do to him?"

He burst into laughter, tossing his head back, "It has nothing to do with our current situation." He gently stroked through Dean's hair, letting him rest against his legs, "Right now it is imperative that you do not reveal Dean's situation to anyone. Your suspicions are to be kept to yourself. If you fail then I will know and it will be you strapped to my rack."

She swallowed hard, nodding, "I understand."

He smiled, almost sweetly, "Good." The mark seemed to disappear under his fingers, "When he wakes up he's not going to remember I was here. He knows what he's supposed to do, you don't have to worry about that, just stay out of my way." He gave Dean's hair one last stroke before stepping back, watching as Dean fell over, limp on the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own anything held within and I do not make anything from the writing of this piece of fanfiction.

Here's part 2 and we begin with a chunk in hell, enjoy!

Dean had awakened with Alastair's face in view, a smile on his lips, "In hell it is all about ownership, possession." Alastair circled slowly, his fingers sliding over Dean's naked shoulder, "For instance, you belong to me. We need to be sure everyone knows that."

Dean twisted in his bonds, strapped securely to the rack, "Sorry buddy, I don't belong to anyone, especially not some asshole demon."

He smiled indulgently, "I own you, Dean Winchester. You belong to me and I need to make sure that everyone knows it." He moved to a large cart off to the side, "I'm going to mark you and no one will ever forget that you are mine."

He jerked as Alastair picked up a blade and a bowl, "Keep that away from me." He hissed lowly.

There was that indulgent smile again. He slit his wrist, holding it over the bowl, "We mark with blood. Blood shall be my ink, a blade my tool, and your body shall be my canvas." He dipped the blade into his blood, bringing it to Dean's shoulder, "Deep breath, this is really going to hurt." He smirked darkly, the blade sliding easily into his flesh.

Dean screamed, his head jerking back. The rack had him firmly in place, unable to move. The demon hummed a tune as he began to carve, sliding the blade in a swooping line across his shoulder. Alastair's blood stained his skin black, branding him, seeping into his body, marking his soul for eternity with Alastair's mark. The blood scorched through him, it ached and burned and cut deeper than the blade. He couldn't stop the tears from sliding down his cheeks, couldn't imagine a pain worse than what was being inflicted upon him. The blade swept down, the blood swirling over his pectoral, around his left nipple. It was an eternity before the demon had finished, the bowl was empty, clean of every last trace of corrupt blood.

"Shh, there, all done." He lapped the tears from his cheeks, "Now you bear my mark and no one but me will touch you again."

The mark swirled over his left shoulder, pectoral, and scapula. It danced around his nipple, Alastair had seemed to know where each sensitive place would be, where to slide the blade to cause the most pain. The mark throbbed, black and angry against his skin, burned into his soul. He bit back a cry of pain as Alastair ran his fingers over it, worshiping the mark on his skin.

"Dean, my perfect little soul, this is how we begin your time in hell. Are you ready to continue or I have another offer for you. You can step off the rack, pick up the blade, and your pain will end."

"Why don't you stick that blade up your ass?" He gasped out, shoulder throbbing.

The demon smiled, "Let us begin."

-Break-

Dean knew what he had to do. He had to find the demons in service to Lilith and kill them all, at least send them back down to hell where they belonged. There was something else though too, that handprint on his right shoulder, he had to know who was responsible for that as well. The psychic they had seen, Pamela, had lost her eyes trying to see who was responsible. That left attempting to summon it, a large part of him wasn't sure he wanted to do that either. Then there was the matter of the Colt. Sam refused to tell him how he got it and Ruby wasn't any help either. He was suspicious of his brother. After Azazel's death Sam's powers had disappeared and now they were back, stronger than ever. Both Ruby and Sam were keeping things from him, important things, and he was determined to get answers.

He stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at his reflection. There wasn't a single scar on his skin aside from that handprint. His protection tattoo was the only ink that adorned his flesh but he felt like there was something missing. His first days in hell were slowly coming back to him. He remembered meeting Alastair and being branded but that mark was gone. He felt like it was still there, sliding under his skin like blood, and yet there was nothing to see. It wasn't like Alastair's mark had been small either, it had covered such a large expanse of skin that no one could have missed it.

His fingers moved up to the scar on his right shoulder, touching it slowly, "Who the hell are you?" He asked softly, staring at his reflection.

"Castiel." The name was like a whisper in his mind and yet there was no one there.

He whirled, back pressing against the motel room sink, "Show yourself." He hissed, his voice demanding.

The lights flickered, spasming under the onslaught of energy this Castiel was putting out. Dean's knuckles were white from gripping the sink so tightly as he steadied himself, waiting for the creature to appear. A man with dark hair, a suit, and tan trench coat stood before him.

"All I had to do was ask? It's really that easy? I figured demons were more of the summoning required type." He felt helpless, there were no weapons here, for once he was unarmed.

"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition." He stated, eyes fixed on Dean's.

"Why me? I'm no one, what makes me so special?" He hissed lowly, "Who are you to decide that I was to be raised from hell? There are better people than me down there I'm sure."

"I am an angel of The Lord and God has commanded that you be returned to the living. We have work for you." His gaze didn't waver, looking down on him as though he was less, as though Dean wasn't really all that important.

He shook his head, letting out a snort of derision, "Wow, you're really scraping the bottom of the barrel, aren't you? Couldn't find anyone better?" His fingers tightened on the sink further, anger bubbling up from the lack of answers and the way Castiel was looking at him.

"You have a destiny to fulfill, Dean Winchester." He moved closer, "I pulled you out of the pit and I can put you back in, just remember that." With those final words he disappeared.

Dean's lips parted in a roar of frustration as he whirled, his fist crashing into the mirror, "Here I thought angels were supposed to watch over you, guardians my ass." Blood dripped from his knuckles, slipped down the shattered cracks of the mirror before sliding into the white porcelain of the sink.

-Break-

Blood dripped down his chest, flowing in tiny rivulets over his skin. The silver blade flashed in the hellish glow, catching the yellows and reds and reflecting them onto Dean's skin. He barely held in his cries, his teeth catching his lip to hold back a whimpering cry that threatened to escape his lips. Alastair had changed form again, his features were sharper, more angular. His skin was pale, hair a deep brown, almost black, and his eyes were still that empty white. The red of Dean's blood stood out in stark contrast on the white dress shirt. His shiny black shoes were dulled by blood. He hummed softly, the blade sliding down over his ribs, tracing each one, the skin splitting like butter beneath the gleaming silver.

"Your skin splits so easily, your blood shines like rubies, oh Dean, you are a treat." He purred lowly, finishing the last rib, "I want to see inside, any objections?" He cocked his head to the side, smiling at him, a fresh splatter of blood on his face.

Dean gasped softly, "I think you'll be disappointed. Not much to see in there that you haven't before."

"Ah, but Dean, I haven't seen _yours. _That makes it different and I just can't wait to see inside you." The blade flashed, catching the reflection of Dean's terrified green eyes.

A shout of pain escaped his lips as Alastair dragged the blade from between his clavicle down to his belly button. The skin split, blood pouring from the wound. He laid the blade aside, fingers going into the wound, sinking in and prying the wound open to reveal shining viscera and gleaming bone. He hummed as Dean screamed, his hand sliding up beneath his ribs, pushing aside muscle and vein to get at his prize. Dean's breath stuttered, his scream cutting off as Alastair wrapped his hand around his heart.

"The great thing about hell is that you bleed, you cry, and you can live as I tear your heart from your body to show to you." He jerked hard, yanking the heart down from its place and holding it in front of Dean's gaze, "Come now, take a bite."

Dean coughed, blood splattering from his lips, over his chin, "Go fuck yourself, asshole." He spit a glob of blood at his tormentor, hitting his cheek.

Alastair shook his head, bringing the heart to Dean's lips, "Take a bite and I will let you rest." He stroked through his hair with bloody fingers, "You will get a reprieve for a few hours, no pain." His body shook as his lips parted, his teeth sinking into his own heart, "Good boy." He cooed, petting him gently, "That's right, good boy."

-Break-

He screamed, eyes flashing open into the darkness of the room. Sam was gone. No one was there to hear him scream. In a flash he was on his feet, rushing to the bathroom. He could almost taste his heart, the metallic taste of blood, he began his communion with the porcelain god, the taste of bile replacing blood. He rested his head on the toilet seat, closing his eyes. In a way he was glad that Sam was MIA, he didn't have to know how weak his older brother was or the fact that he was slowly remembering his time in hell. It took him awhile to get ahold of himself, finally getting up and brushing his teeth before coming back out.

"Sammy, where'd you go?" He shook his head, gazing at the empty bed.

He fell back asleep after an hour of waiting for Sam to get back. He awoke again around eight to find Sam in bed, snoring softly. He shook his head, getting up and brushing his teeth again before pulling his boots on. He looked down at Sam, cocking his head to the side, debating about the best way to wake him up. He smirked darkly, launching himself onto the bed next to Sam, catapulting him off the cheap hotel mattress.

"Son of a...!" Sam yelped, flailing as he was forced off the edge of the bed.

"Goooood morning, Sammy!" Dean laughed, looking down at him.

He glared up at him, "That was so not cool."

"Sleep well? When did you get back?"

He scowled, "I slept fine until you launched me. What do you mean by 'get back'? I didn't go anywhere."

Dean schooled his features, refusing to betray the fact he knew he was gone, "I must have been dreaming, thought I heard you leave, my mistake." He felt the anger simmering just under his skin. Between angels and his brother he needed a good hunt, "We need to hunt something, there has to be someone who knows more about angels or even where Lilith is hiding. We need more information. Know any good demon haunts? Maybe Ruby knows something." He knew he was rambling a little but it felt like something wanted out, as if his frustration and anger had a mind of its own.

"Alright, let's see what we can find." Sam pulled himself off the floor, "I'm getting dressed and brushing my teeth first though so if you want to call Bobby, see if he knows anything we can get started." He disappeared into the bathroom.

Dean shook his head, picking up his phone and calling Bobby's number, forgetting that he had yet to inform the older hunter that he was alive and well, "Hello?" The gruff voice made him smile.

"Hey Bobby, know any good demon hunts?" He smiled, waiting for a response.

"Who is this?" Bobby growled lowly.

Dean scowled, "It's me, Dean, come on Bobby, didn't you recognize my number?"

"You bastard, this is a sick joke, don't you call here again."

Dean could hear the raw hurt in his voice and cursed softly as Bobby hung up, "Shit." He took a deep breath, "Sammy, why didn't you tell Bobby I was alive? You talked to him a couple days ago, what the hell man." He banged on the bathroom door, "Hurry up, you have to call him and explain things."

"I'm sorry Dean, I totally forgot." He sighed, grabbing his phone and calling Bobby.

Dean shook his head, stepping outside to get some air. The anger had grown, felt like it was bubbling up from some wellspring that had never existed before. Deep breaths, he closed his eyes, focusing on the crisp morning air that he was taking in.

Sam stepped outside, gently laying a hand on his shoulder, "Hey, you alright? I fixed things with Bobby and he wants to see us but he also told me about a lead on a demon in Missouri so we can stop off."

He nodded, "Let's get out of here." He went back inside, grabbing his bag and tossing it in the Impala before getting behind the wheel to wait for Sam.

The demon wasn't very hard to find which surprised the brothers but neither was going to complain. Dean was the one that always did the interrogation and this time was no different. They had him bound to a chair in the middle of a devil's trap. Dean didn't even give him a chance to start talking before he had picked up a blade and sliced into the demon's arm.

The demon let out a gasp of pain before laughing, grinning at him, "What can I do for you?" His voice was taunting making Dean's anger bubble closer to the surface, "I heard you were good but that was nothing. I think Alastair would be disappointed."

Dean's lip curled into a snarl, sliding the blade up to the demon's shoulder, slowly driving the point in, "What do you know about angels and who the hell is Alastair?" His voice came out in a low hiss.

Sam stood off to the side, watching the blade go in, his voice caught in his throat. He had never seen Dean do anything quite like this. It was usually rougher, splashes of holy water not the twist of a knife. The demon screamed as Dean slowly twisted the blade.

He gasped, shuddering, "A-Alastiar is the master torturer." He scowled, gasping as Dean slid the blade in deeper, "How do you not know that? Did your brains get scrambled on the way up?"

"What about angels?" Sam finally found his voice.

"Those winged freaks? They don't come around much." He hissed, it seemed as though Dean wasn't paying attention to what he was saying anymore, "I'm answering your questions, stop with the knife!"

Dean growled, jerking the blade free and driving it into his other shoulder, "How do you know me?" He hissed, his lips close to the demon's ear so Sam couldn't hear, "Whisper it."

The demon gasped, shuddering in his bonds, "You don't know who you are? I'm not going to be the one to spoil the surprise." He laughed tossing his head back, "Do whatever you want, this is awesome."

Dean let out a shout, pulling back and kicking the chair over. He pounced on the demon, dragging the blade down his chest, snarling angrily as he split him open. Blood covered his chest, splattered over his face, as he dragged the blade from shoulder to hip, making an 'x' across the meat suit the demon was wearing. Sam couldn't move, his mouth hung open in surprise as he watched Dean cut into the demon pinned beneath him. It was minutes before Sam got ahold of himself enough to react, jerking forward and grabbing his brother by the shoulders, pulling him off the limp form.

"Dean, get ahold of yourself!" He shook him, holding him tight to his chest.

"Sammy? What's going on? What did I do?" He blinked, turning his gaze up to look at his brother.

The younger held his brother close, keeping his face turned away from the body still bound to the chair, "You got a little out of control. What did he say to you? You were so angry."

"I don't remember, I was just so pissed. He said something about angels and then I just lost it. I've been so angry I don't know what came over me."

"It's alright, I just wish we were able to learn more."

Dean shook his head, "He didn't know anything. At least he wasn't going to tell us anything." He tried to turn his head to look but Sam held him still, "Come on man, I'm not a baby." He growled lowly, "Do you really want to piss me off again?"

Reluctantly Sam let him go, "We'll figure this out, let's go see Bobby."

Dean's eyes locked on the rapidly cooling corpse, "Yeah, let's go see Bobby." His voice was distant, absent, his focus only on the body he had tortured to death.

-Break-

"Thirty years and once again we're at the end of the day. Yes or no, Deano, will the pain end for you or will we start fresh?"

Dean swallowed hard, looking out at Alastair through swollen eyes. The form the demon had taken was reserved for special occasions. He was tall, his features sunken, his looks were off and yet strangely attractive, this was his tormentor, "Yes." His voice came out as a raw whisper.

"What was that? Speak a little louder this time."

He swallowed again, "I said yes, sign me up."

Alastair smiled, moving close, pressing against him, "I am so pleased you've come around." He kissed his cheek, fingers moving up to his wrists, releasing him from the rack that had been his home for so long, "We have so much to do to get you started in your new job." He stepped back, watching Dean fall to his knees as he moved to his tray of implements. His fingers wrapped around his favorite blade, holding it out to the man on his knees, "Come, take up the knife and let us begin."

Dean's fingers reached out, taking the blade, his eyes locked on the shining silver. Alastair pulled him up, smiling beatifically as he led Dean to an adjoining room, a young woman was strapped to the rack. Tears made tracks down her cheeks, he could hear soft begging or perhaps a prayer coming from her lips.

"Where should I start?" He licked his lips, eyes falling on the woman.

Alastair smiled indulgently, "Don't worry, I'll be here every step of the way." He pressed against his back, guiding him to her side, "Take a deep breath, close your eyes." Dean did as he was told, "Good, now open them and let out your breath. You must be steady, the first cut is the most important, we wouldn't want to make a bad impression, now would we?"

"No, we can't have that. First impressions are always the most important." His mind whirled, he wasn't sure if he could do this but Alastair guided his hand, brought the blade to rest against her clavicle.

"Start slow, I'm here to steady you, now draw it down."

Dean took another breath, drawing the blade down, splitting her skin like butter, blood welling up in its wake. He felt something within him uncoil and release, a gasp escaped his lips, the blade slipping in deeper than he had intended sending a spurt of blood into the air to land on his face. He made a sound of surprise, his eyes widening at the feel of hot life on his cheek. He lifted the blade, chasing the uncoiling feeling in his chest, wondering what it would feel like when it was released. The blade slid back into her skin, crimson drops sliding over her flesh, over Dean's skin. His face was the picture of wonderment, his eyes fixed on the blade as he began to trace patterns into her flesh. Alastair ran his hands down his sides, releasing his arm at seeing how steady he had become.

"Very good, keep going. Can you feel it? That sense of deep relief uncoiling in your chest?" He pressed his lips close to his ear, "Keep going, you'll feel it release, blossom, you'll feel so much better, so good." He cooed, resting his hands on his hips.

He tipped his head back, sliding the blade into her gut and pulling, splitting her open. As she bled he felt such relief, he stabbed in one more time, letting out a low moan as he fell to his knees, body shaking, "What's happened to me?" His voice came out as a soft whisper, eyes locked on the blood as it dripped off the rack and onto the floor.

"I'm so proud of you." Alastair's fingers moved into his hair, stroking through the soft strands, "So very proud of you."

-Break-

Dean jerked awake with a strangled cry, eyes wide. Sam was there in an instant, "Dean, are you ok?" He was immediately checking him over, hovering like a mother hen.

He batted at his hand, "I'm fine, was a nightmare. I'm ok." He closed his eyes for a moment, "Really Sammy, thanks, I'm ok."

"Dean, where are your scars?" His voice was soft, staring at places he knew his brother had been wounded in the past, places that should have born scars.

"Dammit Sammy, lay off. Ever since I got back I've been unmarked. That angel that dragged me out must have gotten rid of my scars. Four months, I had to of been decaying."

"Why don't you take a hot shower and we can head out to Bobby's?"

He could feel the anger again, the rage that he knew would boil just below his skin until he let it out, "Ok, give me a few minutes. Maybe the heat will help." He stood, moving into the bathroom and starting the shower.

The hot spray of water pounded around him as he leaned forward, resting his arms on the wall, his eyes drifting closed. The water traced along the lines of his muscles, over the handprint scar burned into his shoulder. He imagined that there was someone with him. Could almost feel the burning heat of another body through the pounding of the water.

"I had almost forgotten how perfect you are." The voice was familiar, like the one from his memories, low and slick and dark.

"Alastair." He wanted to turn, wanted to see him, but was unable to move.

He chuckled softly, pressing his lips to Dean's ear, his nose brushing against his cheek, "I know what you need, I know what you crave, I know everything about you." His hands smoothed down his back burning a scorching trail through the water, "I know things about you that you have forgotten, things that are locked away in that pretty little noggin of yours."

A shudder went up his spine, his eyes opening at the feel of those long fingers counting his ribs. He could see something black and curling out of the corner of his eye, Alastair's mark was appearing across his shoulder, the lines twining over his skin. He could feel that coil in his gut, the one fueled by his anger and rage that had only been released by torturing that demon. Alastair's fingers ghosted over his skin, making the coil inside him tighten and stretch. Dean gasped, tossing his head back, lips parting as the demon's fingers danced over his skin.

"Please." His voice was soft and he was unsure what exactly he was asking for him.

"Please what, my little catamite? Do you want more? To feel my fingers touching you, working you like the finely tuned instrument you are? Perhaps it's something else, perhaps you want me to stop."

Alastair's fingers drew away, wringing a soft cry of dismay from his lips, "Please, don't stop." He needed that touch, he didn't know why but he needed to feel those hands on him, in him.

A soothing sound escaped the torturer's lips, "Hush now, you know you only have to ask." He smoothed his hands up and down his sides, his left hand sliding around to tweak his nipple, the mark seemed to flow up, seeking out its master's touch, "Do you want to feel more? Yes, of course you do." He chuckled softly, "Relax Deano, you're going to like this." The fingers of his right hand smoothed between his cheeks, seeking out his entrance, "There's a good boy, just focus on your breathing and relax."

The human let out a low cry, fingers flexing against the tiled wall. He took in a deep breath, letting it out in a shaky sigh as Alastair's fingers breached him. His lips trailed down Dean's shoulder, teeth sinking into the flesh of his throat as he pressed his fingers against his spot. The sound that escaped Dean's lips was music to his ears. He moaned lowly into his shoulder, two fingers rubbing and massaging that bundle of nerves. He could barely contain himself, wanting to press and rock against the perfect human he had pinned to the wall but he refrained, there would be a time and place for that soon enough. For now this was all about Dean, Dean's pleasure and Dean's breaking. He slid his lips back down to his shoulder and bit down hard, breaking the skin around that unsightly handprint, watching as rivulets of blood slid down the contours of it. He wanted to tear that mark from his body. He felt the familiar weight of his blade in hand, smirking darkly against the wound he had made.

"Dean?" He paused, stopping all movement.

Dean could feel the coil unfurling, he was so close and then Alastair had the gaul to stop, "Come on, you're killing me here!" He rotated his hips back, "So close! God dammit don't you stop."

Alastair smiled, "I have a question for you."

He growled softly, trying to press back against those wicked fingers, "What?" He bit out.

"Do you want this removed? Your skin peeled off to show the shiny newness of your insides?" He nodded vigorously, unsure of what he was really consenting to, "There's my good boy." His voice came out as a low purr.

A scream was wrung from his lips as the blade slid home, sliding under his skin, under the hand branded on his shoulder. Alastair's fingers pressed and massaged his prostate as he slowly flayed the skin from his shoulder leaving the raw muscle visible underneath. The moment the last piece of flesh came free he felt his length twitch and throb, a loud keen escaping his lips as he came against the shower wall.

"What a good boy." He cooed, lapping at the blood on his shoulder, "Don't worry my sweet boy, we will see each other again soon."

With those words Alastair was gone. Dean's eyes snapped open, there was no blood, no pain, and no curling black mark on his shoulder. The handprint was still firmly branded on his skin. He looked at his watch, only a minute had passed since he had gotten into the shower but the anger was gone, the feeling of a coiled snake inside just waiting had disappeared. He closed his eyes again, grabbing the soap he mechanically began to wash himself. His length, not having gotten the message that hallucination time was over, was half hard.

"Now I'm hallucinating." He grumbled, opening his eyes, staring at the soap as it slid down his body. He finished up quickly toweling off and dressing, putting on his best smile, "Let's hit the road, Sammy!"

They were on the road again with Dean feeling unusually calm and fulfilled. He was really looking forward to seeing Bobby again but at the same time dreading it. What if Bobby made him angry? Would he be able to stop himself before he hurt Bobby or Sam? He wasn't sure what to think about this new craving, this desire to cause pain or to receive it. Was he losing his mind? Dreams were one thing but now he was hallucinating in the shower and it didn't last nearly as long as it should have. He sighed softly, focusing on the road instead, they would be at Bobby's soon.

"Bobby!" He stepped out of the Impala, spreading his arms wide as he approached the house.

"You're both a pair of idjits, you know that, right?" Bobby growled softly, stepping off the porch and approaching them.

Dean could see the flask of holy water in his hand, "Come on. Let's get this over with." He sighed softly, "Have a silver blade too?" He held his arm out, "Can we do that one first?"

Bobby looked taken-aback but pulled the silver blade from his boot, dragging it across Dean's arm before tossing holy water in his face. No smoke, no screaming in agony, he wrapped his arms around him, squeezing him tight, "I'm so glad to see you." Dean could almost hear the tears in his eyes.

A genuine smile lit up his face, "Yeah Bobby, me too." He hugged him back, "Have anything good to eat? Sasquatch didn't want to stop for food."

"Yeah, I think I have some chicken." He headed for the door, "You coming or not?"

Sam grinned, going after him, "Yeah, just give me a minute." Dean scowled at the distance. Bobby shook his head, mumbling under his breath as he and Sam stepped inside, "Hey, I know you're here, why don't you just show yourself, mister I have a trench coat and fluffy wings?" Not to mention a holier than thou attitude that made that coil inside him tighten.

"What do you think you're doing, cavorting with demons?" Castiel's voice was hard, ice blue eyes narrowed at him.

Dean scowled, "What are you talking about? Sam's the only one 'cavorting' with demons. I'm sure he's shacking up with Ruby."

Castiel scowled, looking confused which filled Dean with a perverse glee at the look on his face, "Did you not have...relations, with a demon in the shower?"

His eyes grew wide, "Dude, not cool. You're watching me shower?! What the hell?! That's private time, you don't watch a guy during private time!"

His head cocked to the side, almost bird like, "So, you did have relations? You are not denying it."

Dean's nostrils flared, "I haven't had 'relations' since you pulled me out of hell, so no, no shower relations. What business is it of yours anyway?"

"It is my business if you are behaving foolishly. Cavorting with the enemy qualifies as such." He crossed his arms over his chest, "Show me your shoulder."

"What? I'm not stripping for you, you got your peek when you spied on me in the shower."

The angel glowered at him, "Show me your left shoulder, I must see it." He stepped forward, closing the distance between them.

The human took a step back, "Listen, you either tell me what this is about or I'm going to run you over with my car. I'm not stripping for you."

An exasperated sigh escaped his lips, "I must see if my suspicion is correct. Perhaps I failed to purge all of the darkness from your soul. Now please, show me your shoulder."

An odd sense of panic welled up from within, what if that dream had been real, the hallucination correct? What if there really was a mark on him? He pulled his coat off. Slowly rolling up his sleeve so that his shoulder was revealed. He let out a sigh of relief at the sight of his unblemished skin but when he turned his gaze to the angel he felt that panic bubble up again. Castiel was staring intently at his shoulder, eyes locked on his flesh.

"What? There's nothing there."

"It seems as though I have failed you." He moved forward, invading his space, his hand falling on his revealed shoulder, "Worry not, I shall fix this problem."

It burned, no, more than burned. It felt like his flesh was being cleaved from his bone. His voice caught in his throat, his scream locked inside, unable to escape as the black tendrils of Alastair's mark revealed themselves, writhing under the angel's touch. It was over in an instant and Dean collapsed to his knees, Castiel's hand still locked on his shoulder.

"Bastard." His voice came out in a low hiss.

"I apologize for the oversight. You should never have been tainted with such a thing." He touched his cheek gently, "You'll feel better in a moment."

He was right, the throbbing pain disappeared, drifting away as if it had never been there, "What the hell was that?"

"A piece of hell." He stated simply, "You should feel better."

The coil in the pit of his stomach had unraveled, it was still there but not as strong, he didn't feel the rage and anger bubbling up anymore, "I do." He wasn't about to say thank you wasn't even sure the pain had been worth it, but he did feel better.

"Dean! You coming or not?" Sam shouted from inside, "This chicken isn't going to eat itself!"

He turned away from the angel as he got to his feet, "I don't need you hovering over my shoulder all the time. I thought you weren't the angel on my shoulder type."

"I'm not." In a rustle of feathers he was gone, leaving Dean to head inside for some well earned dinner.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own anything held within and I do not make anything from the writing of this piece of fanfiction.

Blood trickled from the corner of Dean's lips as Alastair hummed a tune, cutting his chest open, "I will never get tired of this. I love seeing you undone."

A broken laugh escaped Dean's lips, "Glad you approve, I'm happy I can make your day a little brighter." He coughed, blood splattering on the floor.

"Oh, Dean, you fill my days with such joy! How many years have we been at this? Ten? Fifteen? Yes, it's been fifteen now. I think it's time to take this relationship of ours to the next level." His fingers trailed over the black mark almost lovingly.

He swallowed hard, feeling his blood slide down his throat, "The next level? What's that, flowers and chocolates?" He coughed again this time sending blood to splatter on Alastair's nice, clean shirt.

Alastair's form shifted from that of the nondescript man to one he hadn't seen before. His eyes were sunken and his features were off but attractive, this was his favorite. The one just for Dean and only at times when he was going to enjoy the soul strapped to his rack in a very special way.

"While chocolates and flowers may be very apropos, they will not be involved this time. Perhaps I'll remember how much you like them for next time." He slid close, pressing against him. Dean could feel his skin knitting together, his organs shifting back to their rightful places, "Don't worry, I think you'll enjoy this on some level at least." Alastair's fingers slid down his sides, skittering over his ribs. A soft gasp escaped his lips, his body arching. There was no pain for once, pleasure flowed from the torturer's fingertips, and it set his nerves on fire, "Let us see if we can find what feels best." His lips wrapped around the lobe of his ear, sucking softly.

Long fingers massaged down his sides, resting on his hips, his thumbs drew small circles, pressing against the bone before sliding up over his stomach. A low moan escaped his lips as those fingers pressed and massaged into sensitive areas, working into his skin and muscle. He felt himself going limp, the metal shackles of the rack the only thing holding him upright as his muscles released. His length hardened, curving up as Alastair slowly stroked over his nipples, working them into tight buds.

"Stop touching me you son of a bitch." Dean's words were short and clipped as he clenched his teeth, trying to fight off another wave of pleasure, "Cut into me if you want but stop touching me."

Alastair chuckled, licking his throat slowly, "But you're so hard already, my boy." He smirked, nibbling his earlobe, "Don't you want me to touch here?" His fingers slid up and down his length, admiring the way it twitched against his fingers.

A low moan escaped the hunter's lips, "Bastard." His hips rotated forward into his grasp.

He cupped his cheek gently, "You'll feel better in a moment." His fingers wrapped tight around the turgid length, giving it a sharp tug, rolling his hand over his tip. That touch is all it took to send Dean soaring, coming over the demon's hand, "See, don't you feel so much better now?" His fingers dug deeply into his length as he came and Dean screamed.

-Break-

The Witnesses had been dealt with and things were slowly getting back to normal, well, as normal as things can be when you're hunting demons and attempting to stop seals from being broken. It was hunting for one of the seals that it happened. Sam and Dean had split up working through a forest for the demon who was in charge of breaking the seal. The man Dean saw made his blood run cold. He was just as he remembered him, sunken features and long fingers, the man who haunted his dreams.

"Alastair." The name was a whispered plea, begging that he wasn't really there.

He smiled, moving forward through the trees, "Dean." That voice slid over his skin like a hiss of silk, "You have been a very, very naughty boy."

He was frozen in place, his head bowing automatically at the sound of disappointment in the demon's voice, "I'm sorry." His eyes went wide, not able to wrap his mind around the words that escaped his lips.

Almost tenderly he cupped his cheek, "Oh, I know somewhere inside you are very sorry but from the look in your eyes I know you're not." He tipped his head up so their eyes met, "Don't worry, we have time to make it better." His shirt was torn from his body revealing the unblemished skin of his left shoulder, "Now, don't move." He turned away for a moment, picking up a bronze chalice and pulling out his shining blade, "You should remember this, hold very still, we wouldn't want to make a mistake."

He slit his wrist, the blood pouring into the vessel. Dean was frozen, sweat breaking out on his skin, sliding down his spine as Alastair dipped the blade into the blood. Slowly he began to reapply his mark, the blade sliding just as easily into his skin as it had in hell. He screamed as the first cut was made, his body locked in place, whether by Alastair's power or his own twisted desire to please he wasn't sure.

"That angel of yours made a grave mistake in touching what is mine. I can accept his mark on you so long as mine remains. After all, in the end, his mark will be flayed from your skin." He focused on the mark, making sure each line was returned to its rightful place engraved on his skin.

"Y-Yes." His voice came out in a raw whisper, "Please, I need more." His voice was strained, the words tumbling from his lips in a plea.

Alastair stroked a bloody hand through his hair, soothing him, "I'm afraid we don't have time for more. I'm terribly sorry, I would love to pin you down and take you, map your body with teeth and tongue but your giant of a brother will be looking for you." He paused, "I can leave you with this however." He pressed close, kissing him slowly, his tongue lapping at his lips, sliding into map his mouth and twining around his tongue.

Dean moaned into it, trying to get more, his tongue lapping back. All too soon the demon pulled away, "Please."

"Hush now, be a good boy, we will be together soon."

"Dean!" Sam's voice cut through the haze Alastair left him in.

Dean's gaze shifting to look at his uncovered shoulder, there was no sign of blood or wounds and yet he knew Alastair's mark was firmly imbedded in his flesh, "Sammy! Over here." He adjusted his shirt, glaring at the rip Alastair left in it, "Find anything?"

"Nothing, I'm beginning to wonder if we got the wrong information." His eyes lingered on the ripped shirt for a moment before looking away, "What about you?"

He shook his head, "Just a branch. This was my favorite shirt too."

A smile spread across his face, "We'll get you a new one. Let's head out and see if we can't find anything. I think we've been played."

The older brother nodded, heading back the way he had come, "I'm hungry, we deserve pie for this wild goose chase."

-Break-

"Do you know what demon blood does to a person?" Alastair circled him slowly, "When given young enough it changes the person, can grant them power, but it can also be severely addictive."

Dean was used to this by now, Alastair would circle him, instruct him on important facts. This time it was on demons, on what Dean was slowly becoming since he had stepped off the rack. The ex-hunter was on his knees, arms clasped behind him, head bowed while Alastair instructed him, his voice smooth and sibilant.

"What would happen if I drank your blood now?" Questions were always encouraged, Alastair loved to indulge him.

His fingers stroked through his hair, "It would help speed along your turning, grant you more strength, and it will help wind that coil inside you tighter, the one you love so much."

Dean's vibrant green eyes were ringed with black as he shifted his gaze to look up at Alastair, "I want it." He licked his lips, "Please Alastair, I want it."

He smiled, white eyes gazing down at him fondly, "Patience, I'm not one to deny you when you ask so prettily but we must finish our lesson."

He huffed softly, "Yes, sir."

Alastair chuckled, "No need for that lovely. You need to remember this lesson, it is important for our future. You do remember what's going to happen, don't you?" At Dean's nod he continued, "Humans become addicted to it quite easily, especially after having been fed it as a baby. When detoxing a person it is imperative to remember that they will do whatever it takes to get their fix. You must be stronger than them and if not stronger then more cunning." He slit his wrist slowly, watching the blood well up, "Now come, drink." He offered it to him, watching as he wrapped his hands around his arm and sucked hungrily, green eyes blurring to black.

-Break-

Sam was drinking demon blood. He knew it now, that explained why he wasn't there when he had a nightmare and then denied it. He had to of been drinking it from that skank, Ruby. She had been oddly absent since her bout of questioning. The question was, where were they meeting and what were they doing in the middle of the night? He laid in bed, Sam hadn't left yet but he could tell by his breathing that he wasn't really asleep. Dean kept his eyes closed, keeping his breathing even, waiting for the rustle of sheets that said he was up and moving. He was going to follow his brother and catch them, see if his suspicions were founded.

Sam had met up with Ruby outside of their hotel. Dean stayed close, following them to another hotel with a car he had stolen outside of their room. They paid for an hour before going in. Dean followed, eyes narrowed. He gave them a few minutes to get settled before kicking in the door. Sam's lips were wrapped around her wrist, his hips pressing forward into her. He was too wrapped up in what he we doing to notice his brother but that didn't stop Ruby. She let out a lewd moan, rotating her hips and smirking darkly at the older brother. Dean whirled, slamming the door and stalking away. He could feel tears in his eyes and that coil deep inside clenching almost painfully. His brother was having sex with a demon, drinking her blood. He had to do something, he had to save his brother before this spiraled further out of control.

He walked away, trying to put distance between himself and the cheap love motel. He felt horribly confused. Sam didn't trust him enough to tell him what was going on and he was having sex with the enemy. Dean closed his eyes, he had sex with a demon, let one touch him earlier, he still wanted to have sex with a demon. Was it alright for him to want it but not Sam? Was he the only one allowed? No, but he wasn't drinking demon blood. Finally he collapsed, sitting on the curb and burying his face in his hands.

"Oh, Dean, you go through so much for that brother of yours." Alastair's voice was almost like a balm on his soul, his fingers gently went into his hair, "Come, I know how to make you feel a million times better. We can release that coil in your soul, that painful spring." Dean's eyes were red as Alastair spoke, "I will make you forget everything for a few, sweet, minutes. You won't have a single thought in your mind. Everything will be just fine. No more Sam, no more Ruby, no more Castiel, just you and I." He stroked through his hair, down his spine, "Let me take care of everything. All you have to do is let me."

"Do it."

The smile was almost feral, "Don't worry, when I'm done with you there won't be a thought in your pretty little head." He pulled him to his feet, kissing him hard and deep, possessive.

Dean found himself pressed back onto an expensive bed, far more comfortable and luxurious than the cheap motels they stayed at. Alastair's lips never left his, his hands sliding over his body starting to strip him. The human gasped for breath as they parted, His shirt being pulled sharply over his head before the demon's lips were latched to his throat. He nibbled and sucked as Dean's fingers came up, grasping at his shirt, tugging it from his body, needing to touch his flesh, to feel it beneath his hands, to know this was real. Alastair growled, sinking his teeth roughly into his shoulder, drawing blood to the surface, watching it trickle over pale skin.

"I love how well you wear my mark." His fingers traced the mark with reverence before his tongue began to trace each swirl.

Dean arched back, a low keen escaping his lips, "Alastair! Touch me dammit!" He lifted his hips up demandingly, growling softly, his hands fumbling down to his pants, trying to get them undone, "Shit." He growled, wringing a soft chuckle from the torturer.

"Allow me." The demon's hands were sure and steady as he undid the button and zipper, shucking off their pants easily, "Better?"

His length strained upward, dripping on his belly, angry and red, "Yes, fuck yes." His voice came out in a long hiss, "Now stroke me."

Alastair laughed, long and hard, "Have you forgotten how this works, Deano? I will touch you when I'm ready, besides, I said I would make you forget and I'm a man of my word."

Lips and fingers, teeth and tongue, sought out every sensitive spot, remapped all of his favorite places. His tongue counted each rib, his teeth sank into his ear, his hip. Long fingers slid in deep while his lips stroked and rubbed and kissed the sensitive skin of his thighs. Dean babbled, his fingers gripping at the sheets, tugging at the expensive bedding. He wasn't sure if he was begging or pleading or just letting out incoherent sounds of bliss. His head tossed to the side when Alastair wrapped his lips around his tip, his tongue sliding through his slit, seeking out every bit of taste he could find.

"You taste just how I remember." He purred around him before pulling back with a pop, "I think you're ready." He retrieved his fingers, shifting positions to line up against his hole, "Remember Dean, relax and take it in." He bit his ear, gazing into eyes glossed with bliss as he pressed forward, sheathing his length deep inside of the human.

He screamed, the burn and slide of Alastair's length splitting him open, "Fuck!" He rotated his hips down, trying to get him in deeper.

Both demon and human moaned, hips pressing and rotating against each other. Dean clung to the man above him as tightly as he could, his nails going into his back, crying out, mouth latching onto his shoulder, biting down. Blood welled up around his teeth, his tongue rushing out to chase and catch it. Alastair's hips thrust forward, his length rubbing against his spot with each stroke. The most delicious sounds were wrung form the human's lips as his prostate was battered and he drank down Alastair's blood.

"Come." The command was hissed into his ear. Immediately his body locked up and the howl was music to Alastair's ears, "Good boy." Heat splattered between them as the demon thrust in a final time, filling him up.

They lay panting, pressed together as they rode through the last shocks of orgasm, "Holy hell, that was amazing, was there something I was trying to forget?"

He stroked his fingers through his hair, "I'm so pleased with you, Dean. There's something that needs to happen and I need you to do it."

He scowled slightly, "What is it?"

"Don't worry, it's nothing bad. In fact you'll be helping your brother. He shouldn't be drinking demon blood, he's falling into addiction. After Azazel fed him there was always a chance that he would fall and fall hard. If he continues to feed from Ruby he will be playing into Lilith's hand. She wants him addicted."

"Tell me what to do to save my brother."

Dean was waiting for Sam when he got back to the motel, a look of concern on his face, "Sam, we need to talk."

"About what?" He looked worried, moving forward and sitting down on his bed.

He took a deep breath, "I saw you, with Ruby. I know you've been drinking her blood. You need to stop."

Sam's lip curled up in a snarl, "It makes me stronger, I need it to fight Lilith!"

Dean shook his head, "It's changing you! You have to stop, you're an addict. What if this is what Lilith wants? Please Sammy." He gave him his best concerned brother look, "I'm really worried about you, I want to help you."

Sam closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, "I have it under control."

"No, no you don't."

"I'm getting out of here, don't follow me." He whirled, storming out the door.

"Sammy!" He yelled, jerking to his feet.

He ran to the door, only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder, "Dean." Castiel, he should have known.

"Let me go Cas, he's going to get himself killed!" He spun to face him, "Don't you understand? He's my brother, I have to protect him."

"If you let him go now he will see. For right now you need to focus, there is a seal being broken as we speak. You must stop it."

He jerked away from him, "Let it break, I have to save Sam." Dean stormed out the door, picking a direction and walking.

"East." Castiel stood in the doorway, "The seal and your brother are to the east."

He stopped, looking at him over his shoulder, "Thanks." His feet carried him east, looking for his brother.

When Dean found Sam he was covered in blood, the corpses of three demons surrounded him, his mouth was stained crimson, "Dean? I-I need help." He swallowed, looking up at him.

"Hell Sammy, you look like shit." He sighed softly, "Let's get you cleaned up and go see Bobby, maybe we can use his panic room for you to detox in." He reached down, helping him up, "It'll be ok, we'll get through this."

Bobby and Dean made sure that Sam was cleaned before locking him in the panic room. Dean was tired, he didn't know what to do. Alastair had told him that it would take time, that Sam would beg and cry but it was important that they didn't let him out, no matter what he heard. Bobby gave him a shot a whiskey, putting it on the table in front of him.

"Thanks." He mumbled softly, "We're doing the right thing." He closed his eyes, downing the shot.

"Of course we are. Who knows what would have happened if this was allowed to go any further. It's good you caught him." He took a deep drink, "More?"

"Yeah." He held his glass out, watching as the amber liquid sloshed along the walls. He downed it in one go, "It's not going to be pretty."

"It won't but we'll be here for him and he will be fine." He took a final drink, "Get some rest, I'll see you in the morning." He left the bottle, heading to his room.

Dean closed his eyes, letting his head fall to the table, "You did the right thing in telling me Cas. I think he took care of seal prevention for you at least." He let himself drift off, falling asleep slumped over the table.

-Break-

"Dean, you have to remember, this is very important. Lilith wants to break the seals, she wants to release Lucifer from the cage. When Lucifer fell he took some of us with him but our brother Michael sealed him in a cage that could only be opened when sixty-six seals are broken. When this happens Lucifer will be released and the world will burn. The problem is that there are those of us who don't want hell on earth. There are even angels that want the apocalypse to come." Alastair sighed softly, "They will come for you. They wanted you down here and they wanted you to break. Both sides in this idiotic conflict wanted it. I bought your contract to save you from the idiots who would try to break you without knowing what they were doing." He paused, petting over his mark, "That brings us to where we are now. Angels are coming for you and they want to take you back up there, away from me, so you can fulfill some idiotic prophecy. You won't remember much of this but it will return to you. This is very important, we must stop them and to do so we need control and we need to stop the last seal from breaking. Lilith's death will break the final seal. The problem is we need her out of the way. There are boxes, if we lock her in her body we can hack her to pieces and seal her away. These boxes are made by angels. When you remember this you need to do your best to find a few of these boxes and we can go from there."

"Find some angel boxes, that shouldn't be too hard." He rolled his eyes, his voice thick with sarcasm, "How do you even know the exist?" He rested his head on Alastair's leg, half closing his eyes.

"I've seen them. I was once one of those feathered pansies but I fell with Lucifer. I taught him a few tricks, my proclivities even then were something only talked about behind closed doors. I was a good little soldier for awhile but I let myself fall and I'm glad of it." He smirked, "You should be happy I fell as well. We might never have met."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own anything held within and I do not make anything from the writing of this piece of fanfiction.

"Castiel, I need to talk to you."

A ruffle of feathers heralded his arrival, "What is it that you require me for, Dean?"

"The truth. There are some things I need to discuss. The most important of which is more of a request." He crossed his arms over his chest, "I need a set of boxes. If Lilith dies the last seal will be broken so I researched a way to keep her from dying but keep her out of the way. As long as we can prevent the last seal from breaking we prevent the apocalypse."

"You desire boxes? What else is it that you wanted?"

"I know something, I know that your side wants the apocalypse just as much as the demons do. I want to stop it, are you with me or against me? Do you want to stop Lucifer or not?"

The angel blinked, his face unreadable, "I will get you the boxes." He disappeared without another word.

Dean sighed softly, "That's one bullet dodged, it just leaves Sam."

"Dean! Son of a..." Bobby yelled from downstairs.

He rushed inside, taking the stairs two at a time, "Bobby? What's going on?" The door to the panic room stood open, Bobby rubbing the back of his head, "Where's Sam?"

"That idiot ripped a pipe off the wall and bashed me over the head with it."

"Shit." He hissed softly, "Stay here, I'm going to find him." He ran back up the stairs, rushing to his car. The keys were missing, "That bitch!" He slammed his palms against the steering wheel.

"Having issues?" Alastair was sitting behind him examining his nails.

"That little bitch escaped!" The coil was wound tight, felt like it was in his throat, "I refuse to hot-wire my baby but I have to find him. Where is he?"

"Do you want me to take you there? What will you give me in return?"

"Whatever the fuck you want." He growled angrily, "He needs to be returned to the panic room to tough it out."

"As you wish." He snapped his fingers, the two of them disappearing only to reappear in a motel room.

Ruby was laid out on the bed, hair fanned out around her, black eyes staring lifelessly at the ceiling. Sam was on his knees, his fingers grasping her arm tightly, tears in his eyes, "Sammy, come on, let's go." He laid a hand on his shoulder gently, "She's gone."

He shrugged his shoulder, dislodging his hand, "No! I need her..."

"Lilith killed her." Alastair stood behind Dean, looking at the tableau with interest.

"Why?" His gaze remained locked on her.

"Because you were going through detox, she was loosing her way to control you." He moved forward, "You need to finish."

Sam stumbled to his feet, turning on the pair, "Who the hell are you?"

"Sammy, let me help you." Dean held out his hand, "Come on, little brother, let's go."

Alastair sighed as Sam just stared at the offered hand, "This is a waste of time. If you do not agree to this than I will tie you up and watch as the demon blood is purged from your system."

Sam blanched before going red in the face with anger, "You have no right to tell me what to do!"

Alastair sighed and held his hand out, pinning Sam to the wall, "So stubborn Sam, don't be an idiot. Your brother is worried about you and all you can think about is your next fix." He flicked his wrist, watching as he was slammed to the floor, "This is happening and you will feel much better in the end. Say goodnight Sammy." With a rotation of his wrist Sam fell into darkness.

"Let's get him back to Bobby's. If you can get me close I can take it from there." He scooped up his brother, hoisting him over his shoulder.

"Yes, your Bobby has a strike first ask questions later kind of attitude. Although he would be great fun to play with." He smirked, laying a hand on Dean's shoulder before whisking them back to the Impala.

It took some time for Dean to get Sam inside and back downstairs, Bobby was waiting for him, "I think we should tie him up." Bobby crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the Sasquatch on Dean's shoulder, "Before the idjit wakes up."

The pair bound him to a chair, making sure to check him for any implements he could use to escape first, "Ruby is dead. Lilith killed her for letting Sam get put into rehab."

Alastair returned that night, hovering over where Dean was sleeping on the couch, "Time to get up, we have work to do." He shook the hunter gently, "Now, Dean." He hissed when he rolled away from his touch.

"Go 'way." His voice came out as a soft grumble, "Don't wan' any cookies."

The demon growled, grasping his shoulder tightly, nails digging in, before pulling him up and biting into his throat, his free hand covering his mouth to muffle the cry of pain. He pulled back, lapping up the blood, "You know what happens when you disobey, my boy." He hissed into his skin, "Do you need a reminder? There are more memories locked inside that noggin of yours that would be enlightening."

He shook his head, "No, no, that's ok. What are we doing?"

His fingers stroked through his hair, "Good boy." Dean bristled but kept his mouth shut, "We're going to go kill a few demons and maybe torture a couple."

"What if I don't want to?"

He sighed,"Stop behaving like a petulant child. It's time to get to work." The pair disappeared.

-Break-

Dean decided that demons were just as fun, if not more so, to torture than humans. They were just so resilient, healing faster than humans did. Sure he could stitch a human back up but it just took energy he didn't want to expend. Alastair wanted to be sure he knew how to torture all manner of people and creatures. It wasn't only about gaining skills, the torture pushed him further down the path to being a full demon. He was close, the green in his eyes almost completely eclipsed by black. He sang Stairway to Heaven as he pulled out the demon's fingernails with a pair of rusty pliers.

-Break-

"Have you forgotten how to do this?" Alastair sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.

The demon was chained to a chair, Dean standing over him with a blade in hand, "No." He sounded offended.

"Are you sure? He isn't screaming or begging, I think you've forgotten." He smirked, knew just the right buttons to push to wind that coil tighter.

Dean's lip curled into a snarl, fingers clenching around the blade, "I haven't forgotten!" He shouted, dragging the blade down each finger, slicing through flesh and tendon to reveal white bone beneath.

The demon screamed, finger spasming under the blade as he moved on to the next one, "Much better, maybe you haven't forgotten."

Alastair smiled, gazing fondly at Dean. The human grinned, shoulders relaxing under the praise, "There's a lady who's sure, all that glitters is gold..." He began to sing, feeling a sense of calm settle over him as he slid the blade over each bone in his hand, working down so each one gleamed under his flesh.

"Doesn't that song remind you of dear Bella?" He leaned against the wall, watching Dean work, "She was fun while it lasted, horrible demon though. She just doesn't have that certain something that makes a good demon. You've got it in spades, it's obvious watching you work how good you are at this."

Dean beamed, slowly flaying a patch of skin off his arm, "He screams too much."

The demon hadn't stopped screaming, "Stop! I'll tell you whatever you want!"

Dean cocked his head to the side, "Alastair, what do we want?" He looked so innocent like that, confused.

"Where is the next seal that Lilith is trying to break? Better yet, where is Lilith?" The white eyed demon stepped forward, "Hmm, are those the questions I really want answered? Dean, keep working on him while I think about this."

"With pleasure!" The blade worked under his skin again, peeling it off as he continued to sing Stairway to Heaven.

When the muscles on his arm were completely revealed Alastair snapped his fingers, "I've got it! I don't want to know anything from you. You know nothing that is of any use to me. I know where Lilith is, I know where the seals are, and I have Dean. You know nothing."

"He has a purpose!" Dean exclaimed happily, the coil long since undone.

Alastair raised an eyebrow, "What purpose is that?"

"Practice!" He slid the blade into the demon's left eye.

Hours, it took hours for the demon to be expelled, to be exorcised back into hell from pain and agony alone. Dean pouted, gazing at the blood covering his hands and arms. Alastair moved forward, wrapping his arms around him, taking the blade and slitting his wrist, holding it to the human's lips.

"Drink up, growing boys need their vitamins." Dean latched on, sucking at the wound as Alastair held him close, stroking his hair, "Good boy, let it fill you up. Don't worry, you're already part demon, there's no addiction in store for you, just memories."

Memories, the blood brought with it stains of crimson. Unlocking each memory buried in his mind, each memory stained with blood. The taste of it on his tongue, sliding down his throat. Alastair's blood danced across his tongue. He could remember every time he had tasted Alastair's blood, had allowed it to speed along his change so that when Castiel came for him in hell he was already lost, a full demon.

"It's still inside me, isn't it? The demon. That coil is me, is the me from hell."

Alastair stroked his hair, held him close against his chest, "Not exactly. The desires are still there, that coil is the need, the want. It urges you forward, your desires. Castiel couldn't remove that desire when he collected you, you were a full demon, he couldn't strip that from your soul. In the end you will be my demon once again and we shall take care of Lilith and all those who stand with her."

"You're going to turn me into a demon again? Don't I need to be dead for that, back in hell?" He rested back against him.

"Not until Castiel brings you those boxes. He can't know the end game." His fingers tugged at his hair lightly, "No, you need not be in hell, we've been through the hard part, you broke, you turned, it's just a matter of bringing that back to the surface and unleashing the black beast inside you."

Dean gasped as Alastair slid his hand over his stomach, "Why not now?" Where had that come from? Did he really want to be a demon?

"Patience. We must stick to the plan. As long as we do that even your brother will follow us."

Sam's detox went well. He had fought and cried for awhile but eventually he came down. Dean was with him as often as Alastair allowed, which considering the number of demons they went after wasn't as often as he would have liked. It was when Dean was letting Sam out of the panic room that Castiel made another appearance, this time with five boxes in hand.

"Are they bigger on the inside?" They were beautifully crafted and engraved with Enochian sigils. The wood was white, probably yew, if not that then some kind of angel only material. They were smaller than he thought they'd be and he wasn't sure how tiny he'd have to cut Lilith up to be able to fit, "I'm not sure how to fit demon pieces into something that size."

"Correct, they are larger on the inside. They should work for what you are planning." He placed them on the floor next to the panic room door, "My brothers did not approve of this plan when I spoke with them. It is disconcerting that they would not listen to my concerns. I took a moment before collecting the boxes to read over the seals. You were correct in the knowledge that Lilith's death is the final seal."

He nodded, "You'll help is then?"

"I shall do what I can to assist you. My brothers will attempt to stop you, I can grant both of you protection."

Dean opened the door, "Want to come out and see Castiel?" He poked his head inside, finding Sammy laying spread eagle on the floor.

"I get to finally come out now?"

The elder nodded, "Yep, so long as you don't go trying to bite anyone." He smirked, Sam had taken to attempting to bite Bobby and Dean when they brought him food.

Sam shook his head, "No more biting promise." He got up, heading out the door.

Dean let him pass, "How does this protection work?" He asked, facing the angel.

"I will burn Enochian sigils into your bones. Angels will be unable to find you unless you pray. If you desire my presence you will have to contact me."

"I'm game, go ahead. You're not so bad, Cas, but I don't want the other winged monkeys coming after me. Especially if they're pissed." Dean moved closer to the angel.

"This will hurt." His hand glowed blue and he pressed it to his chest.

It burned through him, that glowing light scorched through him, into his bones. A low groan escaped his lips, bordering on a pleasured moan. He panted softly, falling to his knees, "Damn." He gasped, trying to calm his breathing, "Not the worst pain I've ever felt." He looked at Sam, "You're next Sammy."

"I get out of the most painful experience of my life, going through rehab, and you want to burn marks into my ribs? I hate my life." He grumbled, moving next to Dean so Castiel could touch him.

He nearly screamed when Castiel touched him, falling beside Dean, gasping for breath, "It is done. If you need me you may call, I fear my brothers will be hunting for me as well for assisting you. Do what is required to stop the apocalypse." The rustle of wings heralded his departure, leaving the brothers kneeling on the floor.

Dean staggered to his feet, "Doing alright, Sammy? Let's get some food, pie makes everything better." He offered him his hand, pulling him to his feet.

"That hurt."

Dean snorted, "Good observation, captain obvious. Let's go, there's someone you need to meet and you'll feel better with some food in you."

The Impala rumbled up in front of a diner not too far from Bobby's place. The pair stepped inside, Dean spotting Alastair sitting at a table, drinking iced tea while waiting for them. He had Sam sit down first before sitting beside him, trapping him against the window. He didn't want Sam to freak out when he found out who Alastair was.

"I took the liberty of ordering for you. A salad with lite dressing for Sam and the biggest cheeseburger they have for Dean. There is also apple pie coming after the meal."

"How do you know what I like?" Sam eyed the demon suspiciously.

Alastair smiled darkly, "I know a lot about you, Sam Winchester. Your mother was killed by Azazel when you were six months old. Your father sold his soul so that Dean might live. Your brother sold his soul to save your life. You were suffering from addiction to demon blood until recently. Azazel was also responsible for the death of your girlfriend, Jessica. You would have made an excellent lawyer but it is a waste of the talents that were trained into you by your father, saving people." He paused, stirring his iced tea, "You're also a bit of a grazer, eating healthy. With how much exercise the two of you do one would think it wouldn't matter what you ate." Sam was dumbfounded, this man knew so much and he was sure that what he said was only the tip of the iceberg. Their food arrived soon after, Sam still staring at the man across from him, "Eat and then Dean will introduce us properly."

That seemed to snap him out of his daze. They ate in silence, Alastair drinking his tea while he waited for them to finish. Dean refused to say anything until after he had his pie. Even Alastair partook, closing his eyes as he savored each bite.

"I understand why you enjoy this so much. Sweet and flakey, the texture is a delight and the flavor is just right." He took a final bite, "Now Dean, introduce me to your brother."

Dean swallowed hard, closing his eyes for a moment, "Sam, this is Alastair, Alastair, this is my brother, Sam."

"It's a pleasure to finally properly meet you." Sam was frozen, Alastair's gaze firmly locked on him, "We met before, over Ruby's cooling corpse. I made sure you could properly detox from the demon blood."

Sam's throat worked to swallow, his fingers gripping at the edge of the table, "You're a demon. You're the one those demons kept mentioning."

He nodded his head in a faux bow, "In a way. I was once an angel and I was Dean's...mentor in hell. I know what both sides want and I want to stop it. There is no point in releasing Lucifer. While he and I are on good terms isn't it better to have an angel who has been driven to insanity by millions of years locked in a cage to remain there? He would agree of course if he was in his right mind." Alastair smirked, eyes locking with Sam's, "I'm sure you want him to remain there as well, after all you are destined to be his vessel. Like all angels he needs permission but eventually you would break and tell him yes."

"You want to help us?" He burst into laughter, looking at Dean, "He wants to help us. A demon wants to help us. I think I'm loosing it."

"Sammy, it's alright. How do you think I knew what was really going on? He knew before I was pulled out of hell what was going to happen. I've been remembering things, he told me what needs to be done to save the world, to save you."

His eyes narrowed, "You believe him?"

Dean nodded, "Yes, I do. I won't let you become some puppet for the devil and I won't let the world fall into hell."

He closed his eyes, tipping his head back, letting it thump against the top of the booth, "What other choice do I have? He helped save me from my addiction, from becoming something I'm not."

"That's the spirit! We're going to get along swimmingly Sam, don't you worry about a thing. I saw that angel bring the boxes, now we just need to locate Lilith and cut her into little pieces. All while keeping her in her meat-suit."

Dean snorted, "Any ideas on that?"

"We have to brand her with the binding mark." Sam was falling into research mode, it made Dean's heart swell with pride at how well he was taking this, "We'll have to trick her, trap her, and mark her. Then we can seal her in the boxes."

"They're bigger on the inside!" Dean chimed in, laughing softly.

Sam shook his head, "We could summon her."

Alastair shook his head, "She would not allow herself to be summoned, not by us. There are other options, she doesn't know my plans, she has been attempting to get in contact with me, however I have been absent." He smirked, gaze shifting to Dean, "There have been some things that needed to be done. I could use this to locate her. There is always the option of asking that angel of yours to find her."

"You can prevent summoning? What the hell? I thought you had to show up when summoned." It was Dean who spoke, glaring at his empty pie plate.

"Most cannot, however those of us with enough practice and experience can deny a summoning. Lilith has been alive for a very long time and has learned some tricks on how to avoid a confrontation. We must also think about the angels in this. You have Castiel, perhaps not as firmly as we require, but he is an asset. I can also teach you a spell to expel an angel from their vessel if it becomes necessary to do such things. I can see them becoming a nuisance."

"Would you even want to see Lilith?" Dean was no longer focusing on his empty plate, his eyes were on Alastair.

"I don't mind it and it can place us in a better position. I could also speak with Crowley."

Sam scowled, "Who's Crowley?"

"The so called king of the crossroads. He is the purveyor of deals and the owner of souls. He held your brother's contract before I acquired it from him."

"I thought Lilith had his contract."

"No, she doesn't possess any contracts although she likes to claim she owns them. Crowley oversees all deals and possesses the contracts. If there is a particular soul that a demon desires a deal can be struck with Crowley to gain possession of it. I knew Dean was coming, saw his contract, before Lilith discovered it. This gave me a chance to gain his contract before she did. She wanted it but I won."

"I take it winning is common with you?" Sam's voice dripped with sarcasm.

Alastair's smile was dark, dangerous, his eyes flashed white, "I always get what I want, one way or another."

-Break-

"I hope you're satisfied with your purchase." The man was slick like oil, his voice laced with a British accent.

Dean hung limp against the rack, gasping for breath through a broken throat as Alastair slid his fingers over the curve of his shoulder, sliding over the mark, "Quite pleased."

"I doubt Lilith would have left him so...whole."

He chuckled softly, "Dean is a treat for the senses. He doesn't deserve to be used up, he's something to savor, like a fine wine."

"It's too bad you marked him, I'm sure you could get top price for a turn at him."

"Oh, Crowley, it isn't about price for me, you know that." He slid his hand under Dean's chin, tipping it up, "I am pleased you were willing to make a deal with me. I know we don't always see eye to eye but I'm sure you know why I just had to have him."

"Better you than her. I know you do a proper job, she would have gotten some cut rate hack to break him."

"Then you know why she wanted to make sure he was sent here?" He lapped up a trickle of blood from the corner of Dean's lips.

Crowley nodded, "Indeed."

"You must also know why I wanted him and what my plans are." His eyes were hard as he focused on the crossroads demon.

"Only speculation. Perhaps I don't want the same thing Lilith does. Say that I'm in it for the deals, what will you give me to lead Lilith on, to make her believe you and I want the same thing she does?"

Alastair looked at Dean thoughtfully before turning his gaze to Crowley, "I will allow myself to be summoned and make deals for you for a month, a month here, not up there. I will work directly for you."

Crowley smirked, "Deal." Alastair moved forward, kissing him to seal their agreement.

"Work on Lilith, I'm sure we'll speak again. Now, if you'll excuse me, Dean and I have some work to do." He turned away, picking up his blade as he approached his new playmate.

-Break-

"Sammy?" He laid a hand on his shoulder. Sam was sitting outside, looking at the moon, "Are you alright?"

"I think so. I just...I don't know, I feel weak. Ever since going off the demon blood I don't feel nearly as strong."

He squeezed his shoulder, "It's ok. You weren't yourself though, for all that strength and power you weren't you anymore." He paused, "I'm glad to have my brother back."

Sam gave him a small smile, "Thanks, I think I needed that."

"Now that we have the chick flick moment out of the way I have news! Something to get your mind off of things. A nice simple ghost hunt! We haven't had a good old fashioned salt and burn in forever."

"What about Lilith and Alastair, any news?"

"Nope, that's why we're going to go on a hunt while we wait. We should know something soon. Remember he has to convince her he's on her side, it might take awhile. Besides, we can take our time, it isn't like Lilith is going anywhere."

"I'm still not sure about trusting a demon. Are you sure we're doing the right thing?" He gazed into Dean's eyes, willing him to understand his reluctance.

He nodded, "I'm sure. Please trust me Sammy."

"I trust you." He clapped a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently, "Let's go hunt us a ghost."

Dean grinned, "That's the spirit!"

Sam took a deep breath, "Dean, you won't keep anything from me, right?"

He blinked, "What do you want to know?" He headed toward the Impala.

"Do you remember hell?" He followed, getting into the passenger seat.

"Yes, well, I'm remembering more." He started it up, closing his eyes to feel the rumble flow through him, "I remember my first days and I remember when I broke." His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, "I remember bits and pieces after that, about my time with Alastair and part of the plan but I don't remember everything."

"Did you become a demon?" His gaze was locked outside, staring out the front.

He pulled out of the parking lot, "Yes."

Sam closed his eyes, swallowing hard, "Do you want to be one? To go back to that?"

"Not if it means leaving you but part of me does. I'm sorry Sammy, part of me remembers and wants to be that again but I don't want to loose you and I don't want to leave you." His voice was soft, "Sammy, if you want me to stay away from Alastair after this..." He swallowed hard, closing his eyes for a moment, "I will, I'll leave him."

His eyes opened, gaze turning to Dean, "No, Dean, I want you to be happy. If staying with him makes you happy I won't stand in your way, but promise me that you won't forget who you are. You're my brother, you're a hunter, and you protect those who need it. Promise me that, please."

"I promise." The words came easy, he could do this.

-Break-

"I know you would leave me for your brother, wouldn't you Dean?" It was one of the rare moments where Alastair placed Dean back on the rack. He only did this when he wanted to show Dean a new technique or remind him who was in charge, "Don't lie to me. I want the truth." The elder demon stroked a hand down his cheek, caressing his skin.

A soft gasp escaped his lips, ebony eyes locking on Alastair's white depths, "Y-Yes, I would."

He cooed softly, "It's alright, I understand. Sam is your brother but I hold your heart, don't I?" His fingers worked their way under his skin, under his ribs. The entrance he had made was smaller than usual, barely big enough for two fingers.

Dean moaned softly, "Oh, yes! My heart is yours." He shuddered, tipping his head back.

"I'm glad to hear it." His fingers brushed against the muscle thumping in his chest, "Hopefully it won't come down to a him or me situation, you know I don't handle rejection well." He squeezed, a scream escaping Dean's lips as his heart was tugged from his chest through the small hole he had created.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own anything held within and I do not make anything from the writing of this piece of fanfiction.

Down to the home stretch! This is the last part and I do have a second part in progress. When it's finished I will be posting it in chunks as well. I hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I have writing it.

The ghost was easy to deal with, especially compared to past encounters, "Hey, let's get some pie." Sam was behind the wheel, Dean dozing in the passenger seat.

He immediately perked up at the mention of pie, "Pie? I thought you'd never offer!" He stretched, "Where'd that come from, by the way?"

"I want all the time with you I can get before this is over." He turned into the parking lot of a diner.

Dean scowled, "It's not like I'm leaving you. Just because I might become a demon in the end doesn't mean you're going to be able to get rid of me."

That made Sam smile, "I'll just be stuck with Alastair too?"

Dean laughed, "Not all the time, in fact I can see you and I together more often than not. Alastair will demand some of my time but damn Sammy, you and I will be together until the end!"

Sam shook his head, "Until the end." He agreed, parking and heading inside, "Hurry up! Pie's waiting!"

Dean let out a whoop, rushing past him and into the diner, "I require your largest slice of apple pie, my good lady." He sat at a table, Sam sitting across from him, "And milk."

The younger brother was in high spirits after Dean's proclamation, "I'll have the same."

They dug in, relaxing and enjoying each other's company, ignoring what the future was going to bring. For the moment they had each other and the world was as it should be. Alastair was waiting for them when they stepped outside. He was leaning against the Impala, arms crossed over his chest.

"Tomorrow is the day boys!" He smirked, stepping forward to meet them.

"I take it you know where Lilith is." Dean said, heading for the driver's side.

"Indeed. She expects me to bring Sam to her. She wants him to open the final seal." He paused, "She's looking forward to seeing you as well, however I told her in no uncertain terms that you wouldn't be in attendance."

"How does she expect Sam to kill her?" He slid in, relaxing.

"She believes I have taken over Ruby's place in feeding him blood."

Sam slid into the passenger seat, "Have you been feeding someone demon blood?" His voice was short, his words clipped. He wasn't sure he wanted the answer.

"And if I was? Would you really want to know about it? I'm sure Dean has discussed the situation with you."

Sam glowered at them from his seat, "So it's alright if he drinks demon blood but not if I do?"

Dean went to speak but Alastair held up a hand, "Sam, you need to understand something. You are fully human, the small amount of demon blood Azazel forced you to imbibe does not change that. When Dean was pulled from hell by Castiel he did not come back as fully human. The blood he takes is to start changing him back. If he were to decide he didn't want to be a demon and stopped, his demonic nature would go dormant again." He paused, "If you had continued or were to start drinking it again you would not become a demon, you would be tainted and it would consume you. Do you recall what you did to those demons? You would no longer be Sam Winchester, hunter, you would be Sam Winchester, corrupted."

"I guess that makes sense." He let his head thump back on the seat, "Let's go back to the motel, I want some sleep before we go demon hunting in the morning."

"I shall see you bright and early. We can go over the plan at that time."

Dean gave a two finger salute before pulling out to return to the motel, "You going to be ok?"

"Peachy." He closed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Dammit Sammy! Don't be like that. You want me to stop, I'll stop! We went through this an hour ago!" He slammed his foot on the break, jerking onto the side of the road.

"It's just hypocritical. You can but I can't. If it's not good for me why is it good for you?" He words came out clipped and short.

Dean rubbed his hands over his face, "Because I won't become corrupted. Sammy, I broke in hell. I shattered into a million pieces and was stitched back together. I can't live like this. I feel each soul I tortured, I can hear their screams and I can't live with myself. If I become a demon it won't matter anymore." He couldn't tell Sam how much he enjoyed it, how good it felt to cut into a soul after spending thirty years being cut into, "I can hunt, I can be a better brother, and I can protect people. I don't have to live with the thoughts of the things I've done wrong. I'll still be me Sam, I made you a promise and I always keep my promises to you."

Sam was asleep when Alastair showed up at Dean's bedside. His fingers going through his hair slowly, "Wake up Dean, you need to take your medicine, we can't have you all weak and hitting like a kitten tomorrow." He grumbled softly, rolling over, "Now, Dean, wake up." He slit his wrist, holding it under Dean's nose, "I know you want it." His fingers wrapped around his arm, holding it in place as his mouth sealed over the wound, sucking harshly. Alastair's fingers stroked through his hair, "Good boy. Isn't that better?" He gazed down the line of his body, noticing the bulge of his length against the sheet, "You're not getting help with that you know."

He pulled back, licking his lips of the last traces of blood, "Bastard." His eyes were tinted black as he turned his gaze to the demon, "Working me up to deny me, I suggest you do something about it since it's your fault."

The laugh was dark, promising pain, "Have you forgotten who's in charge here? Dean, I'm disappointed in you." He made a tsking sound, shaking his head, "You need that anger, that strength for tomorrow. Lilith isn't going to go down quietly." He gripped his hair sharply, "You will not come tonight, am I clear?" Dean growled softly and Alastair tugged, "I said, am I clear."

"Yes! Yes, I get it, damn, let go of my hair." He batted at him, "No coming, we're clear."

"Good, now get some sleep, we will speak again in the morning." He disappeared, leaving Dean with an uncomfortable hard on and an order not to come. Suffice to say he didn't sleep well that night. Sam awoke refreshed and ready to go with a grumpy Dean in the other bed and Alastair at the little motel room table, breakfast laid out before him, "Good morning boys, sleep well?"

Dean grumbled, still half hard, "Could have been better."

"I'm good to go, what's the plan?" Sam sat down, grabbing a breakfast sandwich.

The look on Dean's face promised pain for his brother for being so chipper. He flopped down at the table, grabbing one of the sandwiches and digging in, continuing to glare at the pair who seemed far too happy for his liking.

"Something wrong, Dean?" Alastair feigned ignorance, looking innocent.

"No, nothing at all." He snarled softly, "I'm just peachy." He gave his most winning smile.

Alastair smiled, "I'm so glad to hear it. Eat up. We need to discuss how this is going to work. I have already prepared the area where we are to trap her, you may feel free to check it if you like. There are multiple devil's traps and I have a brand for the binding. What needs to happen is for both of you to be prepared and act quickly once she's trapped. Sam will be with me, playing the captive. Dean, your task is to brand her the moment she is in the trap."

"It sounds like you have this pretty well thought out." Sam was still suspicious, eyeing him wearily.

"I have had a long time to think of how to do this. I've planned multiple scenarios, this one fits with the resources we have."

Dean settled himself in to wait. The building was old, plenty of places to hide, and the devil's trap had been painted with invisible ink. It wouldn't due for Lilith to see it and avoid it after all. There were two backups as well, just in case she missed that one. Alastair and Sam were waiting at the far end of the room, Sam was bound to a chair. Alastair had applied a few superficial wounds to make it appear as though he had been tortured. He sat with his head bowed, staring at his lap, attempting to make his face blank, as if Alastair was well on the way to breaking him. A broken Sam would make Lilith very happy. Dean shifted the brand in his hand, waiting for the little bitch to show up. He didn't have to wait long. The little girl she was possessing couldn't have been more than ten with blonde hair and pigtails, she was adorable. Dean knew better, inside that little girl was a creature who had wanted him to break and who wanted Sam to give in to Lucifer.

"I was hoping Dean would be here." She pouted, walking inside.

Alastair smiled, "So sorry to disappoint. He is tied up at the moment. He isn't himself quite yet, I couldn't have him running off."

Dean watched as she stepped into the devil's trap, a smile spreading across his lips as she hit the wall. He moved swiftly, not giving her a chance to react, driving the brand into her back. She arched back with a scream of pain and rage. Sam tilted his head up, smiling at her, getting to his feet, the false bindings falling to the ground. Alastair laughed, gazing at her with disdain as he pulled out the boxes.

"Do you know what these are?" He approached slowly, smiling sweetly at her.

"Yes." She glared at him.

The devil's trap was small, barely big enough for her to fit in. They didn't want her moving around too much, "Hi, Lilith, did you miss me?" Dean smirked as she hissed at him.

"Why are you doing this? Why would you stop Lucifer?" She squirmed as Sam and Dean pulled out machetes.

Alastair laid the boxes down side by side, "Because I know him better than you do. You may be he first demon but I was with him in heaven. He has gone mad locked in that cage and you would have him unleashed upon human and demon kind alike."

"You're making a mistake!" She screeched as the brothers approached.

Dean swung first, hacking into her leg, severing through muscle and bone with a single swing, Alastair's blood doing it's job, increasing his strength. It took Sam a few swings to get through her other leg. The elder brother barely stopped himself from singing as they cut off her arms. Alastair held each box open while Dean deposited the pieces.

"What do we do with them now?"

"They will be taken back to hell and stored. There are places I can put them where no one will ever find them." He gathered them up, "Go enjoy your victory. I will return when this is finished." He looked meaningfully at Dean.

"Sammy! Pie and you're not having a salad either. This is a celebration, we averted the apocalypse!"

Sam shook his head, "Let's get out of here and I will have a burger with you."

The diner was perfect, the burgers were amazing, and Dean swore that the pie was double stuffed, "When will you be back?" Sam asked, taking a bite of his burger.

"A couple of days. I need some time to re-adapt and then we can hit the road again." Dean finished in record time, "You are still ok with this, right?"

He received an exasperated sigh as an answer,"Really? I'm sure. Only because I get you back." He punched his shoulder lightly, "Jerk."

"Bitch." His reply was said through a mouthful of pie.

In that moment Sam knew everything was going to be just fine. They finished, heading back to their motel with a six pack of beer. They drank through the six pack and a bottle of whiskey before Alastair returned. Dean offered him the amber liquor which he took. Downing the remainder.

"Ding, dong the bitch is dead." Dean smirked, "Well, not dead but close enough!"

"You're drunk." Sam slurred, laughing softly.

Alastair shook his head, "You're both drunk."

Dean raised the empty bottle, "Hail to the king, baby!"

Sam giggled, both Alastair and Dean stared at him like he'd grown a second head. An actual giggle had escaped Sam's lips, "Who's the king? Am I the king?" Sam giggled again.

"No, but I am de-facto ruler of hell so that makes me king." Alastair smirked, "And as king I decree that the two of you crawl into bed and sleep it off."

The brothers mumbled but crawled into bed, both of them passing out when their head hit the pillow. Alastair took care of their bottles, shaking his head before waiting for them to get up. It was late afternoon before Dean spilled from the dead like a zombie, crawling his way toward the bathroom only to be cut off by Sam as he jumped out of bed and ran in first.

"Sam! That was my bathroom." He thumped his head on the door, scratching at it while Sam retched inside, "Cut it out in there! You're gonna make me puke!"

Alastair watched the scene from the table, "Coffee?" He held out the paper cup.

Dean crawled over to him, reaching for the coffee like a man for water in the desert, "Give, here, now." Alastair slowly slid it into his hand.

He took a slow drink, moaning as it slid down his throat, "Why Dean, I didn't know you were a zombie. You do know that this voids the warranty, you can't go back to being a demon if you're a zombie."

"If I was a zombie I'd be biting your leg right about now. The world just kind of moves on its own, floor better." The coffee helped clear his head a little but he still felt like crap, "Still alive in there, Sammy?" He sound of puking was his response, "I guess so. Take a shower when you're done, you'll feel better." He paused, "Alastair brought coffee."

By the time Sam came out Dean was feeling a lot better. The coffee and relaxing had done a world of good. He still wanted a shower before leaving with Alastair and he wanted Sam to feel better. Sam nursed his coffee looking horrible.

"Never drinking again." He mumbled.

Dean snorted, stepping into the bathroom, "Holy hell Sammy, did someone die in here?" He stepped into the shower, "You shouldn't lie Sammy, you know you'll drink again." He had to shower quickly or run the risk of running out of hot water.

"Feeling better, Sam?" Alastair asked, Dean could admit that Sam looked better at least as he stepped out of the bathroom.

"Yeah, thanks for the coffee."

The demon nodded, "It isn't a problem. You were both entertaining last night."

Sam closed his eyes, resting his head on the table, "Going to live, Sammy?" Dean laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, go on, get out of here so you can come back sooner." He batted at his brother before turning an eye on Alastair, "He'd better come back as Dean too, one piece and my brother, or I'll kill you."

Alastair laughed, tossing his head back, "Don't worry. I don't want him as someone else." He stood, looking Dean over, who was still only wearing a towel around his waist, "Time to go."

"Can't I get dressed first." He clutched at the towel tightly.

"No." One word and they were gone.

It was a similar hotel to the first one Alastair had taken him to. Upper class and swanky. He also immediately noticed that he was bound securely to the bed and his towel was gone. Thick leather cuffs kept his arms and legs spread to the four corners. The second thing he noticed was that Alastair had his favorite blade in hand.

He swallowed nervously, "How does this work? Don't you just have to overdose me on blood or something?"

The flat of the blade slid down his chest, "If only it were that simple." The blade nicked the skin above his belly button causing a trickle of crimson to slide into the little well, "No, this requires more finesse. You can't just decide to be a demon, especially not after an angel pulled you out. I like how you got him to make you undetectable, by the way. No, this requires a bit of torture and begging and bleeding." His eyes fell to the handprint, "And the removal of such unsightly a scar."

The gulp from Dean almost seemed to echo through the room, "How much torture?"

He raised the blade, "Enough to make you cry and beg for more."

He released Dean's right arm from the cuff, pinning it to the bed so he could access the mark before sliding the blade under the base of the handprint, slipping it beneath layers of skin before slicing, cutting it off in thick strips. Dean screamed his fingers clenching as he tried to hold still against the onslaught of pain. He could feel the blood pooling beneath him as Alastair meticulously removed the skin from his shoulder leaving no trace the scar had ever been there.

"I will heal you of course, we can't have any sign you were ever marked." Dean's head lolled slightly and the demon smacked his cheek, "None of that. You're not allowed to check out, we're just getting started!"

His screams had died down to whimpers by the time the mark was fully removed. His shoulder was a raw, bleeding mass of muscle, shining red in the low light. He couldn't bring himself to look, knew exactly what that much meat looked like. Alastair gently slid his fingers along the muscle causing Dean to spasm in pain. He could feel the skin begin to reform under the demon's touch. It was just as painful reforming the skin as it had been removing it and he couldn't stop the moan that escaped his lips.

"So soon?" There was almost a pout in Alastair's voice, "I was hoping we were going to get to do more." He sighed, "Well, you haven't started begging me yet so there's still time."

A pink tongue flicked out, wetting his lips, green eyes locked on his tormentor, "Please." He arched slightly letting Alastair see his need, "Don't you dare leave me like this. When I get free I'm going to flay the skin from your back." He squirmed, tugging at his bonds.

He smiled sweetly, "Promise?" He seemed to be waiting for something.

Dean's eyes flickered black for a moment, "I promise."

"There's my boy." He purred, slitting his wrist and holding it to his lips, watching the blood trickle in. Dean latched on immediately, drinking from him, while Alastair's free hand slid down his body, wrapping around his length, "I couldn't just leave you like this, don't worry pretty." He stroked, long, languid twists of the wrist. He began to hum as he stroked and Dean drank from him, "Oh, lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below..." When the still human tried to pull back he shook his head, keeping his wrist firmly against his lips, watched as he struggled to swallow the thick blood, "More, until I know you've had enough you will continue to drink."

He felt like he was drowning as the blood poured past his lips. Finally Alastair pulled his wrist away, leaving him panting for breath, limp on the bed. Fingers gently moved through his hair, his eyes half lidded as he tried to breathe normally.

"I feel so weak." He grumbled, opening his eyes a little more, "And I'm hungry."

Long fingers brushed beneath his eyes, "They're changing nicely, however you're going to be in pain again soon. Let's see if we can bring you more pleasure instead." He smirked at the still hard and dripping length.

"If you don't fuck me I'm going to castrate you." He dead panned, blackening eyes locked on him.

"An empty threat. If you castrated me you would never be fucked again." He freed himself, settling in between his legs, "But I will be fucking you very soon." He snapped his hips froward, thrusting in fully.

Dean let out a scream, his hands clenching. His one free hand grasping Alastair's shoulder in a bruising grasp, "Fuck! Asshole!"

He laughed, rotating his hips, "Yes." He hissed lowly, pulling out to thrust back in smoothly, he made sure to strike his spot hard with each pump of his hips.

His nails dug into his shoulder, blood welling up in small crescents, "Harder." He tried to move his hips against him but couldn't because of the way he was bound. A low moan escaped his lips, "Dammit, let me move!"

He chuckled darkly, "Release yourself and you can, my little hybrid. Finish turning." He bit into his throat harshly.

Dean could feel the coil winding deeper, working its way out into his skin, into his muscle, his very being. It burned its way through him, purging through his blood. He screamed, arching back. Blood welled up in his mouth, trickled from the corner of his lips. He bucked against the demon, nails digging deeper. His hips moved quick and hard, driving into his spot, forcing pleasure to mix with the pain. With a shout he jerked his arms free, the leather falling away at his command. He jerked forward, his legs wrapping around the torturer, forcing him deeper. Their hips slapped together, snarls and growls escaping their lips as they sought release. Dean's eyes burned black as he came, locking around Alastair, pinning him close as his release tore through him.

"Mine." Alastair bit into his throat again, leaving a bloody mark.

Dean moaned softly, laying limp beneath him, "Damn." He kissed the elder demon softly, "That was amazing."

Their moment was interrupted by the rustle of feathers, "How far you have fallen." Castiel stood at the foot of the bed, looking down at the pair of demons.

"Cas, it's good to see you. The boxes worked great!" Dean smiled at him as Alastair rolled off to the side.

The angel shook his head, "You have become the enemy and must be put down. I cannot purge you of this taint twice." He moved forward, "I am sorry, you have done the world a great service." He seemed to be thinking to himself, "Perhaps I can merely send you back to hell."

"No way Cas, I have to get back to Sammy. There are plenty of hunts to do, I don't want to go to hell." He backed away, hitting the head of the bed.

Alastair was on his feet in a flash, his hand wrapping around the angel's throat. He lifted him easily, "You were useful, Castiel. We could have let this go amicably but you're still too bent on following orders to see the truth. Don't worry, you will understand what we're doing and you will see that Dean is still gung-ho about protecting these...humans." He locked eyes with him before beginning to chant in Enochian. Castiel looked panicked, grasping Alastair's arm. His eyes glowed with blue light and then the body of Jimmy Novak fell limp, "Time to go. I wish we had more time to cuddle but I will take you back to your brother."

"Did you kill him, what did you do?"

He smirked, "I exorcised him, he's back in heaven but he'll be back again."

"I was looking forward to spending some more time with you." He pouted slightly.

"You could return with me to hell, I have things to take care of."

"We can't just go somewhere else? You can't take a day off?"

Alastair shook his head, "You know how they get and I do have to keep an eye on Crowley. Once things are settled I can take a day off. I would much prefer to be torturing souls but Crowley is too young in my opinion, he needs guidance. Perhaps after a few more decades I can leave him to run things while I play."

"Fine but you'd better show up for play time for a few hours." He grabbed his towel, wrapping it around his waist again.

He chuckled, "You and Sam will have plenty of hunts to go on. There are demons left over that are loyal to Lilith. I'm sure you'll have a good time in my absence."

The pair appeared back in the hotel room they had left Sam in, "I need clothes." Sam was dozing on his bed, his coffee long gone, "Hey Sammy!" He poked him in the ribs before hunting for his jeans, "You still hung over?"

Sam grumbled, rolling over, "My head is still killing me. What are you doing back so soon? I thought you were going to be gone for a couple days."

"I was until Castiel showed up. He wanted to send me back to hell or kill me, I'm not sure which. Alastair exorcised him." He finally found what he was looking for, pulling on his boxers and pants.

"Here is the ritual for angels." Alastair handed him a piece of paper with sigils drawn over it, "Use it if you need to. I will find you again in a few days or if something happens. In the mean time you'd best be on good behavior."

"Always." He smirked, pulling on his shirt, "Go have fun with all the bad little demons." He waved, sitting down on his bed, "Looks like it's just you and me Sammy. The way it has been and the way it should be." He grinned as his brother groaned softly.


	6. Chapter 6

I have posted a sequel to this story called Care and Feeding of Your New Demon, it's already up and posted.


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